Fine Print
by EternityIsNow
Summary: That was the thing that intrigued Rumpelstiltskin the most about his caretaker: she wasn't afraid of him. Belle often wondered why he kept her around. Her master was being far too kind, and for some reason, she found it endearing...


_A/N: After the warm reception I got for my last one-shot, I decided to write and post another one. Thanks again for everyone's support!_

**Disclaimer: I don't own Once Upon a Time… though I wish I did.**

"Dearie, _what_ are you doing?"

The voice cut through the air like a flame-tipped arrow, snapping Belle out of her fantastical world. She glanced up to see her master standing in the doorway of the library, watching her as his cat-like eyes twinkled with amusement. A light blush tainted her cheeks as she realized she had been caught in the very act… again. The thought of lying to Rumplestilskin dashed through her mind, but she quickly discarded it, knowing he already knew the truth.

And also because no plausible lie was coming to her mind quickly enough.

Jumping up from the floor, she placed her hands behind her back and began fumbling her fingers nervously. "I was—umm—_reading_." The last word escaped her mouth as nothing more than a whisper. The blush darkened as she lowered her head, no longer able to meet his piercing gaze.

"I—I'll just be getting back to work, then." With these last words, she reached down and grabbed the leather-bound novel, placing it on the end-table before the fireplace. She was adamant about finishing this one tonight, even if she had to lose sleep.

Turning back toward the door, she was startled to see the Dark One standing before her, looking down at the book. "And your tactic for not getting discovered this time was _lying on the floor?_" he questioned, picking up the recently placed volume and flipping through it absent-mindedly.

"It's comfortable," the housekeeper replied, much to Rumplestilskin's annoyance.

"Hmm… I suppose I had just assumed the people of Avonlea were taught to use _chairs_." Glancing down at the pages, he spotted _'magic spells' _and _'masquerading prince'_ before two deft hands sprung out and ripped it from his grasp. It seemed like any other trivial romance novel, yet if it pleased his housekeeper, he wouldn't deny her such a trifling enjoyment.

He lifted his head to judge her reaction, but a condescending glare was his only reply. The beauty replaced the book on the end-table before placing both hands on her hips, tilting her head in annoyance. "Did you come all the way up here just to insult me, Rumplestilskin?"

That was the thing that intrigued him most about his caretaker: she wasn't afraid of him. By the tone she held in her voice at times like these, he actually thought that _he _was a tad bit more afraid of _her_. "_Actually_, dearie, I was looking for lunch. You know: the meal between breakfast and supper? The one that was supposed to be served in the main hall _an hour ago_?" he asked, flourishing his hand for emphasis.

Belle's gaze darted to the open windows behind her, and to her dismay, the sun had already peaked and was well on its way to its western cradle. She had only meant to read for a few moments, yet it had escalated into a few _hours_. "I—I'm sorry. I'll get right on that."

Belle often wondered why he kept her around, considering all of her faults. She was entirely too clumsy, often breaking priceless artifacts instead of cleaning them; she was absent-minded, evidenced by her routinely forgetting things and having to fetch them from across the large estate; and worse of all: she was distracted entirely too easily, the proof being what had just occurred. She knew he would be far better off if he just sent her packing and acquired someone else, but it seemed that he had no plans to do just that.

No, he rather merely ignored her accidents, or brushed the apologies away, claiming he '_never really liked that vase, anyway'_. Belle knew for a fact that what she had broken in the past two months was worth more than her father's entire duchy. Her master was being far too kind, and for some reason, Belle found it endearing.

Although she would never admit it to _anyone_, she found _him_ endearing.

Yes, he wasn't a _normal_ kind of attractive, but Belle couldn't seem to take her eyes off of him. He was smart, elegant, and even _romantic_ if he tried to be. He was a wonderful dancer; she knew from the time he '_needed to test out his new trinket'_, a harp that played itself. And above all: he made her laugh.

"I suppose I can let this one be on me, so long as you don't get used to it. Magic comes in handy for more than deal-making, after all." With a sweep of her master's hand, a tray with two steaming hot plates appeared on the side-table before her, resting right beside her book.

A small smile crept upon her face as she saw the plates resting on the table, and dipped into a small curtsey in thanks. "Thank you, _master_," she jested.

Rumplestilskin lifted an eyebrow in question, but a smile slowly spread across his face. "I believe you're more of a troublesome resident than a caretaker, judging by your constant slacking."

Either the room grew suddenly hot, or Belle was furiously blushing. She felt butterflies flitting around her stomach as she examined the plate in her lap intently. She didn't quite know what had provoked this reaction, but the word '_resident' _sent her reeling. Rumple had just indirectly welcomed her to stay in his Dark Castle, even if nothing else had changed.

Suddenly, the entire place felt like home.

_Shout-out to Bean21 for helping me on this one! You rock!_


End file.
